Televised Tragedy
by instant anarchy
Summary: Sideshow Bob goes crazy and kills Krusty on live TV. Please R&R.
1. Story Contest

**Televised Tragedy**

It was an ordinary Saturday in Springfield; Homer Simpson went into the backyard and drank some Duff beer in his hammock. Peering over the fence, Ned Flanders asked, "Heydily hodily, simpsoneighbor. How's by you?"

Homer, not wanting to talk to Ned, replied, "Nothing. Nothing's by me, what's it to you."

"I just wanted to say hello to my neighbor."

"Say hello to your other neighbor."

So Ned went to the other side of the lawn and had a conversation with his other neighbors.

Inside the Simpson's house, Bart and Lisa were parked in front of the television, watching their favorite cartoon "Itchy and Scratchy". In it, Scratchy, the cat, walked down the street when he comes upon a new gym. He walks inside, and Itchy, the mouse, shows him to a treadmill. Little does Scratchy know, however, that the treadmill is actually 14 saw blades aligned side by side. Scratchy's feet are sliced to pieces.

Bart and Lisa laughed hysterically as the cartoon finished. When the cartoon was over and cut to commercial break, Lisa went to her room to work on her science project. _Miss Hoover will be so proud_, she thought, _as will Mom and Da… well, maybe Dad won't care so much. But Mom will be proud._

Lisa returned downstairs just in time for the show to come back. Their favorite clown was sharing his fantastic news with the crowd before him.

"Hey hey, kids!" he exclaimed. "Kids, great news! Next weekend, Krusty could be coming to ANY ONE of your houses! Not only will there be a live performance right in your living room, you will get to meet two of your favorite performers: Sideshow Mel, and ME!!!"

The kids in the studio cheered. Sideshow Mel made excited noises with his slide whistle. Krusty laughed.

"Now here's the deal: Send me a story with all of the words on your screen"—Sideshow Mel held up these words on a cue card for the children in the studio—"and the story that makes me laugh the hardest will win!!

"If your story wins, I'm coming to YOUR HOUSE!!

"And here's the best part! Runner-ups will receive a signed photograph of me with Mr. Teeny! My signature ALWAYS looks different, so each one is unique!!"

The words were: "Pickle, derriere, racket, earthworm, endeavor, pianist, quest." A child in the audience raised his hand.

"Krusty, why did you pick the words you picked?"

Krusty responded, quite truthfully, "I picked them by closing my eyes and pointing to them in the dictionary.

"Now remember- I need to get these stories by the coming week, or I am NOT coming to your house! That's all! Bye-bye!!"

Bart and Lisa each wrote their own story. They argued with each other about whose would win.

"Mine's going to win," argued Bart, "because you have no sense of humor!"

"No, mine is going to win," rebutted Lisa, "because you won't be able to use any of those words correctly!"

"Nonsense, you two," intervened Homer, stepping into the house, "neither of you is going to win. Nobody's going to win. It's all a scheme to get kids to actually be creative for once. The story he likes the best is just going to be part of his next routine."

Bart was annoyed that his father sounded so sure of himself when trying to haze Krusty.

Bart and Lisa took their stories to their mother, Marge, and asked her to take them to the post office and send them to Krusty.

"You're both entering?"

"Yeah, if we both go in this contest, we've doubled our chance to win!" Bart reasoned.

"Well all right, but please make sure Krusty doesn't come here twice. I only want him in here one time, and that's enough," Marge declared, and she took the stories to the post office.

"I'd like to mail these," she told the mustachioed man behind the counter.

"Oh, by golly, I didn't have any idea, this is clearly not the line in which you MAIL things. That's over there," responded the man, pointing to the line next to him.

"Oh. Well, thanks anyway," Marge said, heading towards the line in question.

"I was being sarcastic. I was making fun of your declaration that you were going to mail these. Of COURSE you were going to mail them, that's why you're in here. Thank you, Captain Obvious."

Marge groaned at the sarcastic man, "Just take them, and I will be on my way."

"Okay, okay!" he assured Marge, "this'll be at Krusty's place by tomorrow."

"Thank you," said Marge as she walked out the door.


	2. Painful Memories

The morning of next Saturday came, and Sideshow Mel was busily opening and telling to Krusty the many, many stories that the children had sent. The first one opened was one by Ralph Wiggum, called "My Sory":

"Earthworm went outside and found a endeavor. Derriere is a funny word, said the pianist. Then the earthworm and the pianist and the endeavor and a pickle went to a quest where they found a racket. Earthworm hit endeavor with it. The end."

"Ughhh… that was the worst story I've ever heard! I guess this is what they mean when they say the first is the worst," Krusty brooded. "Next…"

Story after story, Krusty simply wouldn't laugh. Sideshow Mel suggested, "If you aren't going to laugh at any of these stories, maybe you should hold a raffle instead. You wouldn't want to let the children down would you?"

"Meh," responded the apathetic clown, as he took a long drag on his cigar. "The kids won't know if I don't pick anyone, they'll just think that they didn't end up winning."

"What about the signed photograph of you and Mr. Teeny?" Mel reminded Krusty. Krusty responded with a coughing fit. "And besides, the performance at the child's house will be televised. You don't want to let down all your fans by not performing, do you?"

"Crap!" Krusty groaned.

Sideshow Mel, opening another story, noticed, "Krusty, this one's anonymous!"

"Well then let's hope it sucks even worse than all the other stories."

The story, called "Bad Luck Streak", went as follows:

"It was an ordinary day, and Scratchy"-Krusty commented that the use of cartoon characters was a nice touch-"was walking down the road. He decided to stop on a bench on the way, and eat a pickle to replenish his energy. But it was a stick of dynamite, not a pickle, so he threw it away. Itchy, who had given Scratchy the dynamite, stomped on an earthworm to ease his frustration, but the force at which Itchy put down his foot broke his entire leg. But Itchy continued to endeavor his quest to kill Scratchy. Scratchy, who saw Itchy coming behind him, picked up a racket and hit Itchy right in the derriere. Itchy then stole the racket and hit Scratchy in the derriere five times in a row. The pickle/dynamite in the trash then blew the Itchy and Scratchy both to bits."

By this time Krusty was laughing uncontrollably, and Sideshow Mel tried desperately to calm him down before he had a heart attack. Mel's pitiful face only made Krusty laugh harder than he already had. Mel decided to put on a mad face instead. "You're in trouble, Krusty. Big trouble." This calmed down Krusty a little, making his speech intelligible.

"Oh man! Oho! Ohoho man, that was a good one. I'm going to his house today!" Krusty declared. "And, ah… As for the runner-ups, we'll just have a raffle." Sideshow Mel nodded in concurrence.

When they arrived at the house, they rang the doorbell. A voice from within called out, "Come in." Krusty and Sideshow Mel proceeded into the house.

The foyer that they entered was painted a deep blue, with an extravagant forest green rug laid out on the floor. The lights that dotted the walls led into the halls. "What a place you got here!" Krusty admired. "Yes, isn't it wonderful," responded the voice in the kitchen.

"Hey, I know that voice… It's- It's Sideshow Bob! Hey hey, Sideshow Bob!!" Krusty announced. "I didn't know you would enter this contest. I must say, that story was really funny. We're not on camera yet, right?"

Fred, the cameraman, said "No."

"Okay, so I'll say this: The kids' stories SUCKED. I mean, some people say that I suck, but they have never read those stories. You would just cringe at the sight of them Bob! I mean, those kids don't even know what's funny. It's like the only reason they watch me is because I tell them what's funny and what isn't. And they don't even listen to me! Seriously, those kids need to go to clown school."

"You know, Krusty, they might actually listen to you. Maybe that is why their humor level is so low." Sideshow Bob responded nonchalantly.

"Hey," Krusty whined indignantly.

"It's the truth, but… you know, I think that the cameraman has lied to you and the film was rolling the whole time."

Fred's eyes darted around the room, then he ran away.

"But don't worry. None of this was aired."

"Oh thank God."

Sideshow Bob turned the film off. He then looked at Krusty, and a smile spread across Bob's face. For only a fraction of a second, he looked, in a strange way, happy. Something stirred in Mel's stomach upon seeing this. He swallowed hard, stood up and said, "We should show this program at 1 pm. The kids will have just eaten their lunch and would be waiting expectantly at the TV at that time."

"Good thinking Mel," Krusty commended. "We'll have plenty of time before then; just enough time to find a new cameraman."

"I could be your cameraman, you know. The children wouldn't even know the difference," Sideshow Bob suggested. "We can do other things in two hours. Please, now, let's have some tea."

Sideshow Mel usually enjoyed his tea, but right now, it didn't seem to go down so well. Deep inside him, he felt that something would go very wrong, very soon.

"So how have things been going, Bob?"

"Well, Krusty, as you know, I've been to jail for a while; but the police chief Wiggum decided that I had served enough time, that I should be let out for good behaviour. And I have been good; I haven't tried to kill Bart or anyone since my release. I have just been at home, reading the newspapers, wondering if I could find any jobs…"

"You could work for me again," Krusty offered. Sideshow Mel cleared his throat to catch Krusty's attention.

"Oh, no, Krusty, I wouldn't work for you again. You have your sideshow performer, Mel, and he is a perfectly wonderful performer at that. Besides, you saw how working for you affected me the first time; I've certainly learned my lesson! And Mel, you might want to pay attention to what I've done. Quitting your job for him could be in your best interest."

"I- I like working for Krusty," Mel responded defensively.

"Oh, you're sure now. Because I didn't see it coming that Krusty would drive me mad, but I still knew I didn't like it much. You sounded as if you didn't even know."

"I'm fine working for him. It's fine. I'm all right, now please. Don't make me quit a job I enjoy, because I really do enjoy it."

"If you say so."

The conversation between Bob and Krusty continued until 12:55, when Mel said, "We're on in 5 minutes!"

They scrambled to prepare for the show. At 12:58, Krusty took out a cigar and was about to light it, but Bob said, "Please, no smoking in my house."

1:00. The show begins.

"Hey hey, kids!!" Krusty began, laughing. "As promised, I have chosen my winner for the story contest. The winner was Sideshow Bob!!"

Bart's eyes widened, his heart pounded, and he swallowed a scream upon hearing the name.

"And as promised, we're doing our show right in his living room!!"

Krusty got onto a miniature bicycle, and then rode it around a loop. He completed his act by eating the bicycle. "Cha-ching, cha-ching."

"Now instead of rolling a cartoon like we usually do, we're going to ACT OUT Itchy and Scratchy! Sideshow Mel is Itchy, and I'm Scratchy!"

Krusty walked across the room, then sat on the couch and took out a pickle. "Uh-oh, this one's dynamite," he said, throwing the pickle away.

"Oh, rats!" Mel moaned, and stomped on the floor with force; he picked up his foot and began hopping, yowling in pain. He persevered to reach Krusty.

"I see you, you know," Krusty informed Mel. He bent down and picked up a racket. He smacked Mel right in the derriere. Mel, in retaliation, smacked Krusty with the racket five more times. Then… BOOM. Somewhere off-screen, something had exploded, and to the audience, it seemed that that was the pickle exploding. Sideshow Bob held up a "The End" sign in front of the camera.

"Now for our next section, I'm going to shoot Sideshow Mel out of a cannon!"

Sideshow Bob's eye twitched.

Sssssssssssss-BOOOM, the cannon exploded. Something snapped in Sideshow Bob's mind, something that had snapped already, long ago. He looked around, found a gun on a nearby table, picked it up, and shot Krusty.

Three times.


	3. Is He Okay?

"Bob- Bob! What are you doing?" Mel cried out.

"I'm doing what I should have done a long time ago. I'm doing something I've always wanted to do!" Bob's entire arm was trembling, but he continued to pull the trigger. His eyes lit up with a certain glint they never had before.

"Krusty! You have to get out of here!" Mel panicked.

"You'll never escape! Because I won't let you!" Bob screamed.

"Ugh," groaned Krusty. "Hey! Quit it!"

"Never. This is what I'm going to do and no one can stop me now!! I hate you Krusty! Why aren't you dying yet??" Bob yelled, then looked over at Mel. "I might be killing him now, and that might be killing you now, but I swear to God it will save your life in the long run! I won't regret this! You won't regret this! Nobody will regret this, not even Bart Simpson! When he grows up he might realize that I was right all along! Krusty was wrong! They were both wrong! This needs to be done for the sake of all our sanities!!!"

"Speaking of sanity," Mel said, standing up, "the children don't want to see your loss of one."

As he turned the film off, Bob growled, "They've seen it once, they can bear to see it again."

"But they don't want to watch Krusty die, and… neither do I."

Bob, too weak to pull the trigger any more, sank down to the floor, cackling in short spurts. Mel took Krusty by the arms and pulled him out of the building. "They'll be here soon, don't worry…" Mel tried to comfort Krusty, calling first to get Krusty medical attention.

"What's his problem?" Krusty asked, barely audible. "It's almost like I'm the reason he's crazy or something. He just went crazy on his own time and blamed it all on me."

_I believe Bob on this one,_ Mel thought, but didn't say. He didn't want Krusty to feel betrayed in what might be his last moments on earth.

Bart, fearing that Krusty was dead, ran to his room whimpering, as did Lisa.

"The kids seem so terrified. Someone should go talk to them," Marge said.

"You can do that," Homer said.

"Not this again, I meant we both should."

"D'oh!"

In Bart's room, where everything was Krusty, Bart was holding five Krusty dolls in his arms. "Sideshow Bob is such a monster," Bart whispered. "It's not even fair that he was let out of jail. He deserves to be locked away his whole life! Our police force is made up of such idiots. They arrest Sideshow Bob when he's good and let him out when he's bad! It's almost as if they have no judge of character at all."

"Now Bart, I know this is hard for you, and it's probably hard for a lot of other kids too. But knowing Krusty, he'll be okay. He always is, and before you know it, Sideshow Bob will be back in jail. So cheer up! When everything returns to normal, we can forget this ever happened," Marge explained.

"Yeah. And you don't have to worry about him trying to kill you anymore if Krusty does die," Homer added.

"Which he won't," Marge corrected, glaring at Homer.

"Oh, he won't? Then you'd better look out boy, because he'll never be satisfied until he kills one of you. And maybe not even that much! Maybe Krusty's going to die AND Sideshow Bob will still come after you."

"No, Sideshow Bob is just satisfied to get the blows in! He doesn't care if Krusty lives or dies, he's just going to stop now that he's hurt Krusty!"

"I hate these talks… they always end up with me more scared than I already had been," Bart complained. "Sideshow Bob is a maniac. Nothing you say is going to stop him."

Marge groaned uncomfortably, and then said, "How is Lisa taking this?"

"Come in here, I don't want Bart to hear it."

"Okay, Lisa, what's on your mind?"

"I'm not actually that worried about Krusty."

This prompted an awkward silence in the room. After a while, Marge said, "I thought you looked up to Krusty."

"I don't. I've been trying to appeal to Bart by saying I did, but now that he's dying, I don't think I'll miss him that much. I feel the same way about Krusty as Bart did about Bleeding Gums Murphy. What really worries me is that Sideshow Bob is out there and he might try to kill Bart again. It's always scary when your brother's life is in danger. But your brother's idol…" Lisa trailed off. "I feel bad that I don't feel bad about Krusty possibly dying. It just seems… wrong to me, how Bart's going through trauma and I'm feeling nothing."

"Oh, Lisa, you don't have to feel bad! It isn't your fault, sweetie! And I'm sure that if Krusty IS alive, you'll feel better than if he died. You aren't really feeling 'nothing'; you're just… not taking it as hard as Bart is. And that's a good thing! That means that you're at least a little happy. And I want you two to be happy."

"Thanks Mom."

That night, after the kids had gone to bed, Homer and Marge watched the news about Krusty; how he was doing, if he was alive.

"This is Kent Brockman, reporting for Channel 6…. Now I'm sure the story you all want to hear is what's new with Krusty the Clown. After the incident in Sideshow Bob's house today, many adults and children alike are wondering what has become of our favorite clown. The doctors themselves are unsure. Let's ask one now…"

Dr. Hibbert, looking dead serious, stated, "Well, I don't know for sure if Krusty's going to be all right. But right now, it's just… it's not looking good. It's not looking good at all. He's too weak to talk, and he definitely won't be completely okay for the next few weeks to do his show. The channel is going to have to do something about that."

"Knowing Dr. Hibbert, he's probably going to crack up right about," Homer paused, "now."

Dr. Hibbert remained still. He didn't laugh.

"Well, our fun-loving local physician is actually being serious this time! So what does the future hold for Krusty? Find out, after the break!"

"Oh man, I hate it when they do that!" Homer complained. "Now we'll have to wait even longer to find out. I'm wetting my pants over here from anxiety!"

"Homer!" Marge scolded. "Use the bathroom if you need it!"

"But I don't want to miss important news like this! I don't want to be on the toilet and all of a sudden, 'Krusty died' and I miss it. So I'm staying right here."

"Well… at least… get off the… couch…" Marge said.

"Fine, be that way. I just want to find out if he's alive."

The show returned, and Kent Brockman looked very somber.

"So, what does the future hold for Krusty the Clown? …Apparently, nothing at all. Krusty was an idol to many, a simple form of entertainment to others, but now, all he is… is dead. We are sorry for the many people who enjoyed his work, and if you are, you might want to turn off your television right now… but the way I see it, GOOD RIDDANCE."

Marge was worried. "Homer… Bart is going to feel so bad about this. I don't know how we're going to tell him."

"How about… 'Bart, Krusty died.'"

"Well, maybe… But he's going to need some comfort after hearing something like that. Some people find solace in church, but not Bart."

"We have to go to church tomorrow?!"

"Yes Homer, tomorrow's Sunday."

"But- But we're celebrating the life of Krusty! He's Jewish, so he doesn't have to go to church."

"That doesn't mean we don't have to."

"We're all going to miss Krusty, so I'm going to ask the reverend if he'll hold a funeral for a man who isn't Christian. He might say yes."

"We'll see."

In Sideshow Bob's home, Bob sat in front of the television and saw that Krusty was dead. "My job is complete," he said. "I've won. I've finally won."


	4. Church

"Hello, Bart."

Marge's bright and sunny voice filled the room. She shook Bart in his bed. "Time to get up."

"I don't want to get up today. I didn't sleep well last night, you guys were up talking."

"Y-You heard us??"

"You should know by now that we can hear everything in the house from any room. The walls are thinner than Homer's hair around here. So… Krusty… isn't all right. I got my hopes up too high…"

"Don't say that. It makes sense that you didn't want him to die, and besides, your hopes can never be too high. It's good to have high hopes."

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall. I know what that means now. It means hope."

"Hmm, well, we're going to church today, so…"

"I'm going to ask the reverend if he'll hold a funeral for a Jew. I bet we're all going to miss him, even Lovejoy."

"Well, we'll see."

The breakfast table was abnormally quiet. No one felt like talking, and they ate slower than normal. Bart said, "I'm going to go get ready for church." The rest of the family murmured in response.

In church, Reverend Lovejoy was giving a sermon regarding what to do- tell the truth or preserve feelings.

"The question that has bothered mankind for centuries is: Is honesty really the best policy? When you are faced in a situation where you cannot decide whether to be brutally honest, or to tell a white lie, you must always- HEY! No throwing paper airplanes in church."

Reverend Lovejoy opened the airplane. It read, "Reverend Lovejoy- Please, hold a funeral for Krusty. We all miss him. –Bart"

"I said, no airplanes in my church!" Reverend Lovejoy said again as another airplane sailed to him. It read, "I know that Krusty is Jewish, but can you hold a funeral for him anyway? –Homer"

"Oh, all right, does anyone else have airplanes to throw, please throw them now?" Reverend Lovejoy asked. No one else had airplanes to throw. Reverend Lovejoy continued his sermon, and while doing so, wrote in the airplanes, "Krusty's funeral will be held here, because there is no synagogue in Springfield. The nearest synagogue is in Shelbyville, and who wants to go there?"

As people began packing to leave, Reverend Lovejoy tossed the airplanes back in the general direction from which they came. Bart said, "Thank you, Reverend," reading the note, and went with his family back home.

That night, Bart went to bed early. He fell asleep and had a strange dream.

"Oh, Bart, I love you so much," said a voice from under the covers. Krusty popped out from beneath the sheets to say, "I love you, Bart." Bart was baffled.

"I know that I like you as an idol, but this is getting really creepy."

"And it's about to get even creepier…" said Krusty, his voice dropping by an octave. His face shriveled, and his hair grew. The green hair that had grown so large gradually shifted to burgundy, and the skin on his face went from white to pale yellow. The wrinkles disappeared, and the morphed Krusty said, "Hello, Bart."

"Ah! Sideshow Bob!" Bart screamed.

"But don't you see, Bart? Seeing as how I am your wife, you shouldn't be afraid of me!"

"You're my WIFE??"

"Yes, yes. That's why I was saying I loved you."

"But- But you were Krusty then!"

"Was I? Or was I actually…" Sideshow Bob then began shrinking vertically and growing horizontally, and his hair receded back into his head (mostly). His hair became a lighter, more orange shade; a ginger color. His skin became more yellow, and his voice was high and squeaky, as he continued, "Martin Prince???"

"What's going on??"

"Well, you see, e=mc2. Also, Edgar Allen Poe wrote The Raven, and water is H2O."

"What the hell?"

"I'm being a nerd. It doesn't take a genius to know that I'm being a nerd! Oh, and, this is a dream; Krusty would never turn into Sideshow Bob and Sideshow Bob would never turn into me if this were at all real."

"Thanks for wasting all the readers' time."

"No Bart, thank YOU for breaking the fourth wall!"

Bart woke up feeling a bit more than odd. He'd always wondered what dreams were there for. This one, he wasn't sure why any of it had happened.

He and Lisa got ready to go to school, and left five minutes before the bus came. They waited on the curb until the bus came.

"Hey, Otto man…" Bart said unenthusiastically.

"Hey, Bart dude! What's the matter?"

"Well, it's not that, it's different… Krusty died, and Sideshow Bob killed him."

"Whoa, I didn't know that. Maybe I should start watching the news at night. …And maybe I should start actually reading the newspaper instead of just throwing it out. Man, that's important stuff… I wonder how I could've missed that, it must've been the most popular conversation topic for a week!"

"It hasn't been a week, he only died really late Saturday night."

"Oh. Man, I really need to pay more attention to what's going on in the world."

Bart sat down next to his friend Milhouse. Neither of them felt much like talking. Martin, sitting in the seat beside them, said, "Cheer up, you guys. It's not the end of the world. Much worse things could have happened. Imagine if Sideshow Mel had died as well… then there would be no one but Mr. Teeny the monkey to carry out Krusty's legacy. Would that be a show you would watch? I think not!"

"Shut up Martin. First you invade my dreams, now this…"

"I was in your dreams?"

"Yeah. You were being a nerd."

Martin gasped. "You- you're in my dreams too! Now I know the feeling is requited and we were meant to be together!" He sighed laxly.

"Eww! I don't like you that way!"

"Oh…"

When they arrived at school, Bart decided he wanted to cut class. "It would take my mind off of things if I could just hang out in the comic shop all day," Bart said to Milhouse. "So that's where I'm going. Want to come with?"

"No thanks, Bart. I think I want to get to class."

"Suit yourself."

Bart left the school and walked to the Android Dungeon Comic Shop, and he walked in.

The guy behind the counter noticed, "Say, you aren't at school."

"Yeah…" Bart replied. "I'm hanging out over here cause Krusty is dead and school is SO not going to help with that."

"So…"

"Don't mind me, I'm really just hanging out, not doing anything bad or anything like that."

"You will, you know, buy something…right?"

"Uh, er, well, you see, the thing is…"

"You mean you come in here with no money??"

"Um, …yeah."

"Well, if you're here with no money, just to 'hang out', I've got news for you. Look outside…"

Bart looked, and there in the window was a sign that read, "GNIRETIOL ON".

"I don't get it."

"What? Can't you read backwards? 'NO LOITERING!' And I think that this qualifies as loitering! Out now."

Dissatisfied, Bart left the comic shop. He walked past that store and several others. Looking at his feet the whole time, he couldn't see very well where he was going. So he bumped into someone on the street.

"Oh, my. Shouldn't you be at school?"

Bart looked up. It was Sideshow Mel.


	5. New Friendship

"Sideshow Mel!" Bart said. "I know, I know. I should be at school. But I skipped. Seeing all the kids there looking sad would just remind me that Krusty died."

Mel, upon hearing this, had a faraway look in his eyes, as if Krusty were walking down the street just then. "I see… Well, it… just isn't worth it. When someone dies, people are going to be sad. You can't avoid it, and… skipping school won't help."

"Are you sure?"

"More people miss Krusty than just kids, you know."

Mel looked away, because tears were beginning to form in his left eye. "I miss him too. And it worries me that you miss him like this. As if he were a part of your family or something."

"Krusty was my idol, and watching his show was part of my daily routine. A huge part of my life is missing now that he's dead." Bart paused, looking sad. When he continued, it had changed to anger. "It was all Sideshow Bob's fault from the very start. He claims that Krusty drove him insane, but we all know that he was the one who wanted to work for Krusty-!"

"No, he wasn't."

"What?"

"He didn't want to work for Krusty. His brother did. Krusty just thought that Bob was funnier. So you can't blame Bob for that."

"…Yes I can. If he didn't like it, he should have quit."

"I suppose you're right…"

"And what about when he tried to kill me? I never did anything that bad, did I? And when he tried to kill Aunt Selma… She didn't even do anything remotely wrong! There was no excuse that time, not even the lamest ones you could pull out of your ass. He even tried to destroy the entire town, even though almost all of those people never did anything wrong. He's a monster, Mel. He's a horrible monster! I feel like… killing him."

"No, please don't say that. He… He doesn't deserve to die."

"Neither did Krusty, but he still did."

There was a long pause before either of them said anything. Finally Mel spoke up, "We share a feeling about Krusty that I don't think other people have. What is your name?"

"I'm Bart… you know, the one that Sideshow Bob is out to get?"

"Yes, I know… well, if you're going to skip school… I guess I can't persuade you to go back, can I?"

"I'm just going to stay out of school all day long."

"Then, you might as well have fun on your day off. I know a good park, it's fun for exploring…"

"Could you show me the way there?"

"I guess so…"

They walked past Moe's Tavern, past King Toot's Music Shop, past many other buildings and streets. Bart saw his house from where they were.

"This place isn't very far from home," he commented.

"You could probably get here from your own house once you know where it is."

"But right now I don't have a clue."

"Well, do you see that forest?"

Mel pointed in the distance past Evergreen Terrace. Forested area spread across behind a back row of houses. There was a tall monument poking out from the treetops.

"I've never noticed that before… Is the park by the monument?"

"Yes, it's just past there. It looks pretty far away now, but it actually isn't. It's really only three blocks from here; the houses are actually getting smaller. From their point of view, the houses all look the same size."

"That's so weird."

"Well, I've told you where the park is… My work here is done."

Mel turned to leave, but Bart stopped him. "Wait, Mel… will you walk to the park with me? I want people to think I'm with an adult so that they won't get suspicious of me cutting school."

"Well, I'm sure I can do that."

As they walked to the park, Mel asked, "What is it about me, that you want me to accompany you at all times?"

"Well," replied Bart, "I just want to stay on your good side. I mean, Sideshow Bob was a performer for Krusty, and he's trying to kill me. So I figured that Krusty's performers must be really fragile, like anything going wrong could break them. I wondered if you were the same way, because you've been on longer than Bob had."

"I might be, but for me it isn't quite the same. I wouldn't… kill… anyone. I sometimes cry easily, but I would never… go crazy…"

_Or maybe I would,_ he thought. _Maybe Bob was right, all along… No! He's killed a person I held dear, and I held him dear for a reason! He was wrong about Krusty, and he was wrong about me. _

"Well, either way," Bart continued, "I think you're a good guy, and you really like Krusty, so… I figured we could be friends."

"Thank you…"

They arrived at the park and noticed something different about it. Although the monument was still there, the rest of it was under construction for a new Costington's.

"Now this is something I did not expect," Mel said. "This sort of throws a wrench in our plans, doesn't it."

"Wait! I know a fun thing we could do! Do you have a cell phone?"

"Yes, I do, but what--"

"Can I borrow it?"

"Alright…"

Bart began dialing the phone. On the other end, a raspy voice responded, "Moe's Tavern."

"Yes, hello, uh, I'd like to speak to Moesha. Last name, Gayegai? Have you seen Moesha?"

"Hold on… Moesha Gayegai? Does anybody know Moesha Gayegai?"

The people around the bar started cracking up. Barney stated, "Looks like our pal Moe is finally coming out of the closet!"

"What?" Moe then said the name slowly in his head. _Moesha Gayegai. Moe… is… a…. gay… guy. _"Aw crap!! Listen, you little sick freak! If I ever find out who you are, I'm going to bash in your head with a rake and serve your brains as peanuts!!"

Bart began laughing his head off. Mel was concerned. "How many death threats has he given to you?"

"Too many to count, but he hasn't got the guts to carry out any of them."

"You know, you really should be more careful around people like him. You wouldn't dare do that to Sideshow Bob, would you?"

"Well, no, but Sideshow Bob is a heartless lunatic. He wouldn't care that I'm just a little boy, in fact he would be happy to do the things Moe says he'll do."

"Good point. …Oh! I know what we could do. I remember there's a pit near the school, it's very deep and very muddy… and if anyone asks where you've been, you can just say you fell in, and no one will know."

"Wow… I never noticed that before."

The pit was a thick, bubbly mess. Mud was about three feet deep, like a brown, nasty swimming pool.

"Cool!" Bart exclaimed, jumping in the muck. He threw some mud up at Mel, the force of which caused him to lose his balance and fall in the sludge pit as well.

"Oh, dear…" Mel sighed, mud in his hair and clothes. "This will never wash out!"

"That's the fun of it!"

"Are you sure? Or is the fun of it… THIS?" Mel shouted playfully, throwing a pile of mud at Bart's face.

"Eww! It landed in my mouth!"

They played for hours before deciding to get out. "Uh-oh, looks like the bus is leaving. See you later Mel."

"Whoa, Bart dude," said Otto, "how'd you get so muddy??"

"Well, I was trying to get to class but I fell in a pit full of mud."

As Bart sat down, no one else wanted to sit next to him. He was all right with this though, because he knew that it was the start of a beautiful friendship.


	6. Dinner Table

"How was your day, boy? I'd really like to hear what's the story behind all that mud," asked Homer. The family was eating around the table like normal. If Bart was happy, they were happy.

"Well, I fell in a muddy pit by the school, and Sideshow Mel was there, and he became my new best friend."

"Sideshow Mel? Isn't that that guy who keeps trying to kill you?" Homer was perplexed.

"No, that's Sideshow Bob!"

"Well, what about Milhouse?" Lisa asked.

"What about Milhouse? He can just be your best friend. Or boyfriend!"

Lisa forced out a weak smile, and chuckled a bit. "Yeah… no."

"Well, I'm allowed to have two best friends, right? I used to have three best friends."

"No you didn't, Lewis and Richard were just regular friends. Milhouse was your only BEST friend."

"Well, fine then. Maybe Sideshow Mel isn't my best friend then, if you're going to be so picky. He's just my friend."

"I think it's great that you found a new friend Bart! ...But I don't think it's great that you skipped school."

"I didn't skip! I- I just fell."

"I don't actually believe that. But I guess that I can excuse you… You are in mourning after all."

The next day, and the day after that, Bart skipped school. Knowing that Mel had other business than just playing with kids who cut class, Bart invited Milhouse to take Mel's place. Unfortunately, Milhouse was too by-the-book to skip school, leaving Bart feeling lonely at times. He knew he wouldn't feel lonely at Krusty's funeral, though. So many people cared about Krusty that he would never be alone.

Krusty's funeral would be the day after. A surprise lurked there, one that no one in Springfield would expect.


	7. Funeral warning violence!

The day of Krusty's funeral came, and practically everyone in Springfield was there. The only people who didn't come to the funeral were Kent Brockman, who didn't mourn the loss, Mayor Quimby and Miss Springfield, who had… other plans. Springfield, a small town, had time for everyone to be able to attend even celebrity funerals.

The interesting thing was, even Sideshow Bob came to the funeral, which came as a surprise for some. The three cops were watching him closely, but he was otherwise nonchalantly standing in a corner, wearing a hat to keep from being noticed. It didn't work completely, but he went unnoticed by the Simpsons.

"We are gathered here today, to mourn the loss of Herschel Krustofski, or Krusty as he liked to be called," Reverend Lovejoy said. "He was a source of entertainment for many, an annoyance to some, but a friend to most. We will all miss him very, very much, and cherish the memories that he gave us, and the jokes that he stole from us.

"Now, if anyone would like to speak in his honour, please come up."

With that invitation, Sideshow Mel stood up. He walked towards the platform on which the reverend was standing, and took position. He cleared his throat.

"Krusty was… a dear friend of mine. An inspiration, if you will… And it's hard to accept the fact that he's passed on…"

"…………"

A voice? Too quiet to understand the words, too quiet for those in the back to hear, but Sideshow Mel and Reverend Lovejoy looked bewildered. They could hear where it came from, the coffin…

"………………!!!"

Apprehensively, Sideshow Mel lifted the coffin lid.

Krusty lay dead inside.

But as the lid shut again, the voice came back.

"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Baffled, Mel lifted the lid again.

"AAAAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHHHH! ABOOGA ABOOGA BOOOOOOOOOOO ABOOGBOOOGBOOOOOOOOG! BLUHBLIHBLEH! PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTH!"

This time Krusty popped out of the coffin, very much alive. He waggled his fingers, and made bizarre noises. He laughed. Everyone was stunned.

"HA! 'Passed on'? More like, 'pissed off!' Putting me in a coffin? I'm still alive, dumbasses!"

Dr. Hibbert laughed. "You see," he explained, "I was actually joking, but the camera crew cut off the footage of the laughter."

For those that the shock had left, there was a bit of rejoicing, but Sideshow Bob was overwhelmed with gloom.

"Wh-What is this all about? Why is Krusty still alive? I- I- I killed him! PEOPLE WHO WERE KILLED SHOULD NOT BE ALIVE!!!"

"Whoa, hey, take it easy Sideshow Bob. If you don't, we might need to put you in solitary confinement," said Chief Wiggum. "You should watch your back…"

"Watch my back, hm? Why should **I** need to watch my back? He's the one who should watch his back! He gave me a victory- a WELL-DESERVED victory- and then what does he do? He takes it away from me! Why?? Why can't I have a victory for just ONCE in my life??"

Sideshow Bob quickly glanced around, observing his surroundings. Sweat trickled down his neck. His throat was dry. His gaze eventually locked on Bart.

"You did this, didn't you!" Bob shouted to Bart. "You made this happen!"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's your fault! You knew, didn't you! You knew that I didn't really kill him! And you knew that he would be back to HAUNT ME!"

"What the… But! I was just as surprised as everyone else, so…"

"Oh, yes, you were surprised, weren't you? But which do you think was a bigger shock, yours or mine??"

"Sideshow Bob, snap out of it!" Mel cut in. "You can't blame Bart for what Krusty did."

"Oh, yes, you're right. You're right. This was all Krusty's fault. I'm sorry Bart. I shouldn't be out to get you. It all was Krusty's fault. I ought to kill him. Wait, no, I already did. And he was dead for about five days. HOW CAN ANYONE BE DEAD FOR FIVE DAYS ONLY? I KILLED HIM! HE… He should be… dead for good… Oh, what's the point? I obviously could never have any true victories. Maybe I should just end it now…"

He glanced at Krusty, glared, then shifted his gaze to Bart, then back to Krusty, then let it rest on Bart. "But I'm taking one of you with me," he muttered. "Who should it be…"

He closed his eyes as if deep in thought.

Everyone waited for him expectantly, because the town of Springfield isn't particularly bright.

"All right…" Bob said, his mouth twisting into a smile. "I have an idea.

"I'll kill BOTH of you!"

Everyone gasped.

"You first, Krusty." He picked up a plastic table knife, and started stabbing Krusty with it. The flimsy plastic bent against Krusty's belly and eventually broke.

"Drat… But there's more where that came from!!" He had three plastic knives in his hand, each of them flimsy and breaking. The knives were sharper when broken, so Bob saw this as an advantage.

"Hey, Bob, not to rain on your parade, but this doesn't hurt at all."

This infuriated Bob. So instead of attacking him with the futile knives, he took the vase of flowers instead, crashing it against Krusty's head.

The glass vase broke, and shards of glass stuck out from behind Krusty's ears. Blood stuck to the shards and slowly moved down the back of his head.

"Aaaaaaauuuuggghhhhhhhhh…." Krusty groaned. "You… You're… going to have to… do better than that…"

So Bob, at the request, took another shard and thrust it into Krusty's chest.

"AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUAUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAUGHH……….." Krusty groaned. "Urk!"

His eyes looked distant.

"One down, two to go," Bob said. "Bart, it's your turn…."

Bart mustered up as much strength as possible, and bolted.

"YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE…!"

Bart ran all the way back to Evergreen Terrace.

"I WILL GET YOU, BART SIMPSON!!"

Bart ran into the Flanders house by mistake, allowing him to relax a bit, because he could hide wherever, and Bob would be raiding the Simpson house.

But Bart was wrong. Bob saw the path that Bart had taken, and followed him directly to the hiding spot.

"I've got you now…"

Bart had hidden in the cellar, but he still felt naked in the emptiness of the room. So he ran to the corner, which had a table, and crouched under the table.

It wasn't enough.

In the initial darkness of the cellar, Bart had misjudged the conspicuousness of the furniture he was hiding under. Bob opened the door to the cellar (Bart hadn't locked it) and light flooded in. Bart had cornered himself. There was no escape.

Suddenly Bart looked up at the objects on his table.

A flower vase… This could be his chance to distract.

He grabbed the vase off of the table, and as Bob approached, shards ready, Bart held the vase in front of his head to protect himself. Water poured out of the vase as if it was bleeding. Ceramic vase… It was only makeshift, but it worked. As Bob struggled to free his shard from the new, squishy, sticky vase, Bart climbed out from under the table and stumbled out of the cellar.

The shard was stuck, so Bob decided to leave it be.

"I won't let you get away!"

Bart ran out of the cellar, out of the house. Bob followed closely behind, but a safe distance…

_Whooosh_

A shard zoomed past Bart. Bob was throwing them now.

_Whooosh_

"I won't miss! This is my last one!!"

Bart tripped over a wilted weed, leaving him immobilized for a second. Bob put his foot on Bart, preventing escape. He bent over, and stuck a shard in Bart's neck. Blood spurted out as he removed it, and stained the green grass red.

"It's… over…" Bob said. Blood covered his hands. "I… can't believe I did this… I… do… deserve to die…"

And so, taking the glass shard that had killed his nemesis and rival, he slit his wrists and let them bleed until he could feel nothing anymore.

Falling down to the ground, he spoke his final words, "I'm sorry… I'm insane…"

As the police cars came, sirens blared, and upon seeing the extra deaths, the police went white with horror. A day that would long stick in Springfield's memory, the three deaths that would forever haunt the minds of all who were present…


End file.
